Moon and Clouds
by Averon
Summary: Draco Malfoy, Ice Prince, prefect, seeker, hot as hell, and all around most popular boy in the least popular house made a mistake, listening to his father


Hello everyone!! This is my first Harry Potter fic, so I'm trying to get a feel for the crowd. I don't mind if you flame me, I need the help.

Anyway, I obviously don't own anyone from the fic. Then I would be outstandingly rich and I would be PUBLISHING,not merely posting and hoping someone will take pity on me and reveiw...

This is, if I continue it, eventually going to be DMHP slash. If you don'tlike it, I don't care. Your entitled to your opinion, but if your going to complain of something I warned you of, you can keep your mouth shut and your fingers off the keyboard.

Key:  
_Thoughts/something written  
_H.H.H - page break

Here's the fic...

H.H.H

Draco Malfoy, the Ice Prince of Slytherin, prefect, seeker on the house team, hot as hell, and all around most popular boy in the least popular house sat quietly on the windowsill in his dorm staring through the glass. Over the summer, his father had not managed to escape Azkaban and for some reason he didn't really mind. It might have had something to do with his low esteem for anyone who could be considered a servant, but he wasn't sure. He knew his father deserved what he got, but he couldn't say he didn't blame the Golden Boy. He'd caught him after all.

Slowly, the blond pushed away his thoughts and pulled a small book from his trunk. It was quite nice, really. A mahogany cover (real wood no less), nicely seasoned, with an amazingly complex and beautiful carving of a full moon with clouds crossing it on the front. He sat down at his desk and just as slowly, he opened it to reveal… absolutely nothing. It was a blank book, though surprisingly it had lines on the pages. An incredibly muggle thing if you were to ask him, he had no problem writing without lines. He removed an eagle feather quill from his bag and dipped it meditivly in the inkwell he had set beside him earlier. He thought for a moment before allowing his elegant handwriting fall across the first page.

_Father told me I should take more time to 'reflect' on things. He told me to write it down as well. He's a bloody fool, getting caught by the-Boy-Who-Still-Won't-Die, but some one wise once told me listening to my elders couldn't possibly hurt too much, as long as what they say is pointless. I just wish I remembered who said that… It doesn't really matter, I suppose. I've known the phrase all my life as far as I can tell. Listening to it yet again can't kill me._

_The question I have is what to reflect on exactly; life in general, school, bloody love? Phew, now that's a joke. There's no such thing as 'love'. I've known THAT since I was tiny too. You can just tell by the way people treat each other. Maybe I should rephrase. There is no love **for a Malfoy**. That would be heresy. Maybe, there just might be love elsewhere, but in my family it's sourly lacking. My mother and father married out of convenience and an arrangement made by there parents who married out of an arrangement made by** their** parents and now my** dear** superiors want me to marry the Parkinson slut. Not that I dislike her that much, but I don't like her either. Never have, not like that anyway. Maybe what I really meant when I started this was 'there's no such thing as** romantic **love'. It seems makes more sense considering the context._

_According to ancient beliefs, there are three types of love; love of the mind, love of the spirit, and love of the body. Basically, love between friends/family, love of God/gods (like that's all not crap), and romantic love. Well, as far as I'm concerned, there is no love between my so-called-friends and me, there are no fucking god type creatures, and romance never existed in the first place. Seriously, 'loving' your friends? Being willing to do anything for them to keep them alive and happy? That's pure bullshit, in my personal opinion. The only person I could picture believing that is bloody perfect Potter. That's a whole nother topic for 'reflection'._

_Merlin I hate that guy!! He thinks that just because he's Dumbledore's Golden Boy and the savior of the world, the one who everyone thinks will finally beat that bloody Prat-who-can't-be-named that everyone's going to bend over backwards for him. What's worse, almost everyone does!! Whenever he gets out of detention because he was 'saving the day', whenever he gets let out of class, whenever he's rewarded for doing things I could never dream of not getting busted for, they reinforce that very belief in the git._

_Now that sounded bitter._

_I can't stand him. He's so bloody perfect. In the eyes of the teachers he can do no wrong. And his friends!! They're even worse!! Fawning over him, 'Harry, do you want me to help you with that?', 'Harry, that was a great game!!', 'Harry, why don't you go over and rub your **fucking** perfection in **bloody** Malfoy's face, he looks to happy today.'. I loathe them even more then the Golden Boy himself._

_Starting with the Weasel. I hate his hair. It's hideous. A color like that should **not** exist. It burns my eyes. Next, he's a jealous ass. Even **I** know that when you have a best friend who's good at stuff and better then you at most of it, you're supposed to support them. If I were Potter's friend, the one thing I could promise is no jealous tendencies. I can have whatever I want, why would I bother to envy anyone else? Not worth the effort anyway. But Weasel, oh no, he couldn't follow even the most basic of rules when maintaining a so called friendship, every time Potter's back is turned after another of his little miracles, his eyes glow green and you would swear that Potter should be dead from just the bloody look in his eyes. I don't see why that bloody git doesn't quit pretending to be his friend. It's not like he hadn't only started to hang out with the guy because he's famous. That ticks me off. Again, a basic rule broken, you don't make friends for what they are but for who they are. Maybe that's why I don't consider anyone a friend… That and no one fits my requirements for that station._

_Next on the pick apart list; Granger. She makes me want to puke sometimes. No one should be that bloody smart, but that's not really what bugs me. She's not particularly pretty and her hair is terrifying, but that's not it either. Oh no, what gets to me is her obvious crush on the red head from hell. It's disgusting. Add her being a muggle born to that and I'm afraid if she touches me I'll fall desperately ill. Her presence turns my stomach. 'I'm allergic to Weasel loving freaks, thank you. No go away before I hex you.' Her personality is generally annoying but I truly have nothing against her personally. The Weasel-bee, I loathe. I want him dead. He hated me before he even met me and started rumors before I ever stepped foot in Hogwarts about me being just like my father. He turned more people against me before I ever knew them that my list of possible allies, hell, friends was desperately shortened. I resent him for that and I'll do my damnedest to make his life hell in return._

_Now for Potter; what do I hate about him? It can't be his looks. He's… very easy on the eyes to say the least. His hair's messy, but in a cute almost… sexy way. His eyes are intense, not just like anyone else's. I should know, I've been looking right in them when I've been insulting him for the last 5 years. You could almost drown in them. He even has a nice body from what I can tell, but playing Quiddich does that to you. No, I can't say I dislike his looks at all. Did I mention I'm gay? He's definitely eye candy. Evil git he might be, but that does nothing to his looks. All the girls in the school agree there (and gay guys, but we don't really matter as no one knows who we are). I can't say I hate him for his skills as a Seeker. That's talent, can't mess with that. I can resent it, especially just after he's beaten me, but I can't hate him for it. His glide through school? That's non-existent. No one else seems to see it, but observing your sworn enemy for years definitely lets you see when the stress is getting to them (It's the best time to throw them off) and it's almost always near test times. Or times when he's going off to save the world again, but we won't talk about that. Maybe it's the fan club… Yeah right. Having people worship you is tiring and creepy. More then once I've caught the Golden Boy looking over his shoulder hoping not to see the rabid fan-girls catching up to him. I'm not even nasty enough to mess with him then. He looks paler then than after he's faced He-who-the-boy-who-won't-die-is-supposed-to-kill…_

_Why do I hate him so much?_

_I know I hate him. I can't stand to be around him. Ever since he rejected me before the sorting for those bastards he hangs out with now. That was the Weasel's fault to. If it hadn't been for that prat I might have been friends with him now and had a chance to be more then that…_

_**There is no way in hell I just wrote that.**_

_I'm going to ignore that paragraph that is not there for now and move on to other things. I hate Potter. I just can't figure out why…_

_Why can't I figure out why?!_

With that horrified thought the blond closed to book and threw it in his trunk, locking it and leaning against the desk breathing heavily. _I don't like Harry Potter at all. He might be good looking, but he's not my type. He is my worst enemy. I don't need to know anything but that fact. I will never listen to another word my father says again._

For some reason, it didn't feel as convincing as it always had before. Abruptly, the prince shoved away from the desk and strode out of the room. _Damn it all_. He walked straight through the empty common and room and out into the main castle. Being a prefect definitely had it perks. He didn't know what time it was and didn't particularly care, as long as he didn't run into anyone and he could try to out-walk his thoughts. Absent mindedly, he headed up and out of the dungeons and paced straight out the front doors, ending up at the end of the grounds in front of the lake. He gracelessly dropped to the grass and covered his face with his hands.

_But what if I don't?_

H.H.H

How do you like it? If you could see me I'd be chewing my fingernails right now. Any good? Should I just avoid writing about Draco again for the rest of my life? Tell me, please!

Thank you for reading, please reveiw!!

Averon


End file.
